I write about events that happen to me and around the world from a writer's point of view. Nothing in my life ever goes smoothly. My focus is on young adult and children's authors, but occasionally I will bring you an adult author. It is my pleasure to introduce new books and authors to my readers. Writing is my life! By Barbara Ehrentreu

Friday, April 30, 2010

Photos for "The Heart of the Matter" of Don Henley Technically the Poem A Day Challenge for Poetic Asides is finished today, April 30th. But because of my own challenging month I am a little behind. So I will continue to post tomorrow or Sunday the last two poems of the challenge. Meanwhile, I hope that everyone who stopped by here has gotten a chance to visit there and read the comments for each day. There are so many incredibly gifted poets who posted there. I am going to submit 5 poems from my challenge and would love your feedback. So please, if you liked any of my poems the best let me know by commenting here.

Also I need to repeat that I will not tolerate spammers. I had to delete a comment again today, so I have put back the comment moderation. Sorry for the codes. I hate them, but I also hate spammers.:) Let's hope this will stop them.

Here are the poems for each day up to April 28th. Thank you to all who have commented on my poems this month and hope you will enjoy these too. By the way, "The Heart of the Matter" is one of my favorite songs. Here is a story of what happened when I first heard this song:

It was the summer of 1989 when I was driving in upstate New York back to the camp where I worked after visiting my cousin. I slipped in the new Don Henley CD, The End of the Innocence

and no kidding I played "The Heart of the Matter" over and over. For some reason I couldn't get enough of that song. So it was raining and very dark on the highway. Sounds like a set up for "Supernatural":) No, it was raining and I was playing it ear drum splitting loud when all of a sudden I saw a police car in back of me with his lights on. He pulled me over to the side of the road and told me I had been speeding. Now what I didn't tell you was that I had no idea of my speed since my speedometer was broken. He told me I had been going 15 miles over the speed limit! Lucky for me I had a note from my mechanic explaining that the speedometer was broken and I had an appointment to get it fixed. Phew!!! I got out of that speeding ticket. Anyway, that's the story of my love for that song:) Needless to say I am a huge Don Henley fan and of the Eagles too. But this is not my all time favorite song. That is "Moon River" from "Breakfast at Tiffany's" my all time favorite movie.

You called todayThe one I didn’t want to hearYou found another manGot me thinkingWhat went wrong with us?Though I think about it,no answer comes

I sit in my favorite chairThe one where you usedto sit on my lapWe had some good timesDidn’t we?

But the more I think the moreI can’t think and my brain overloadsI’m back to square one never seeingthe end and in a circle rethinkingmy part and your part

I sit alone not sure whyAnd agonize over why you are goneThinking you might have taken piecesof me with you, because I’ve lost myself

Till I realize it’s forgiveness on both sidesI have to forgive you and you, with yourwall of ice need to forgive meor my life will lay in pieces forever.copyright 2010 by Barbara Ehrentreu

*This was written in a man's point of view. Obviously this isn't real or relevant to my life. I've thought of changing the POV, but haven't done it yet.

April 26, 2010

Write a poem with “more than 5 times”

I Close My Eyes

I close my eyes and see you as a toddler,short legs flying down the concrete sidewalkI close my eyes and see you in kindergarten,bright eyes smiling holding hands with Jose,whose five year old heart belonged to you.I close my eyes and see you at twelve falling offthat horse, breaking your nose, and months later

trussed in plaster cast from hip to toe

from your hip operationI close my eyes and see you graduate high schoolAlready a depression veteran, but on your pathI close my eyes and see you the last time you werehappy, laughing with your friendsI close my eyes and see my daughter grown.copyright 2010 by Barbara Ehrentreu

I Cried Five Tears

I cried one tear for the loss of your affectionI cried two tears for the loss of your attentionI cried three tears for the loss of your laughterI cried four tears for the loss of your touch onmy skinI cried five tears for the loss of your body fittingnext to mine in a flesh jigsaw puzzle.copyright 2010 by Barbara Ehrentreu

April 27, 2010

A Hopeless Poem

You can look in her face and see theyears of ferried trips for lessonsDance, voice, horseback ridingthey loom there as reminders of thesunny disposition she once hadThe eyes give it away, thoughWhat she thinks of herself nowIt’s in her walk that used to have a swingto her hips but now is just a shambleScuffing her feet as if she were arecalcitrant child

No amount of encouragement slashes through thelayers of sorrow she has buried herself inas if a living shroud enclosed herShe carries misery with her handbagPlaces it down wherever she goesIt sends out its message of despairTelegraphing her sadness to whoever crosses her path.copyright 2010 by Barbara Ehrentreu

April 28, 2010

At the end of the line

One too many abusive curseshurled at me for failing to doa small thing for youVitriol tossed out willy-nillyinto the open airImprisoning me with yourcage of words

When do I say enough of this?Maybe,finally, possibly I will see theend hidden beneath my delicate egoPoking its head through the curtainyou laid in front of usBegging for attention amidstparading anger

How will I do it?Simply walk to the door and turn theknob or stand there withspecial shield deflecting the barbsuntil they fall in disconnected wadsaround your bloated calcium laden body.

Or will I simply ignore the words andsoldier on doing your biddingRaising my shields to cover my bodywhen the incoming proves too strongas you continue to fireAnd me walking towardyou with arms outstretched for a hug?

Saturday, April 24, 2010

Life has a way of punching you in the gut when you least expect it and that is what happened this week. After taking my husband home two weeks ago we had to take him back to the hospital. When he went to the doctor his calcium level had gone up so high the only place for him was the hospital. He could barely walk and talk and he was so confused he wasn't sure about anything. I am happy to report that since he has been in the hospital the calcium level went down, but the doctors still don't know what is wrong with him. That is what the first poem is all about. So that is why I haven't posted anything since Tuesday. He went into the hospital on Wednesday night. But I still wrote poetry each day and posted it on the Poetic Asides website with Robert Lee Brewer's prompts. I am in awe of the talent in that community.

Here are the poems I wrote since Tuesday:

Poem for Day 21

April 21, 2010

According to the doctors

Something is lurking in yourbody causing your calcium levelto rise and they don’t know what it is.They placed you on an IV that beepsand drips drops of saline solutioninto your body to flush out the poisonThe water pushes throughlike a roaring brook through yourblood seeking out and pushingforward granules of calciumWater in and water outas your voice strengthens andyour mind clears until a shadowof the man I knew glimmers therein the distance.

Can they find the culprit?They are confident they sayThey have alternatives with treatmentthey say if there is something therefor them to treat. In the meantime wewait as if our lives were one largewaiting room until the answer is foundand the veiled presence of your truebeing lays beneath the hoarsevoiced man in the extra large hospitalgown who barks orders and sits onthe edge of the bed, head leaningforward as his eyes close.copyright 2010 by Barbara Ehrentreu

Poem for Day 22

April 22, 2010

Earth

My feet sink into the sand on the beachThe soil’s fertile loam nourishes brilliant flowersalong the fence.The air caresses my cheeksI walk along the water’s edge admiringblack billed ducks and the curve of swan’snecks gliding along the surface of the water

Meanwhile on a rapidly diminishing ice floepolar bears struggle to find foodTheir cubs hunted to the point of extinctionBaby seals are clubbed to death while theirmothers unable to destroy the predatorswatch in horror

An oil rig has an explosion creating an oil slicksure to destroy helpless sea creatures swimmingby the alien structure. In rainforests loggers cut a swaththrough the majestic trees cutting the air supplyof millions for years. Meanwhile people cry for thepreservation of our animals and our land

The earth is our homeWould you allow someone to come intoyour house and kill your children?Destroy your plants, spill oil on your carpetand in your bathwater?

The earth exists, though there are questions as to why or howIt isn’t pleasant everywhere. She has her problems, such aserupting volcanoes, hurricanes slamming down trees, noreastersshattering glass and uprooting trees,earthquakes burying thousandscreating ruins in seconds.It’s earthWe accept her faults like we would a loved oneAlways ready to love her.But are we ready to kick the butts of anyonewho won’t preserve her goodness?We are the caretakers of earth and must standguard with drawn swords when anyone tries tolay waste to her.copyright 2010 by Barbara Ehrentreu

Poem for Day 23

April 23, 2010

Exhausted

My fingers rest lightly on the keysBetween typing my eyes closeJolted awake I stare at the screenDdddddddddddddddddddddddddI delete the offending letters preparedto write the correct words that will certainlypop into my brain, but in the thinking myeyes deceive and close and once again on myscreen, dddddddddddddddddddddddd

Five hours later my laptop still on my lapI awake to a sea of dddddddddddddddddddDddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddDdddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddMaybe it’s time to sleep.copyright 2010 by Barbara Ehrentreu

Poem for Day 24

April 24, 2010

Evening

The sun, the star of the sky,descends in a death defying slideuntil it reaches the horizon wherelavender and pink burst as if aplane were skywriting in streamsacross the wide expanse

The colors bleed to grayuntil light is extinguishedIn summer the gap filledwith fireflies dancing overthe grass their backsglowing intermittentlyas they flutter in the twilight

Evening comes as a whisperAlways a surprise when the grayturns to black as the streetlightsappear. Hard on the heels of daybirds begin their evening tweetsFlying to trees for safety and weslip back into our homes tolocked doors and lightedliving rooms waiting for eveningto turn to night .

copyright 2010 by Barbara Ehrentreu

Some people are still having trouble with the website loading. If you are having trouble and you are either on Facebook or Blog Catalog send me a note and let me know.

Tuesday, April 20, 2010

The prompt for today was Two for Tuesday and you had to write a poem about looking backward and/or one for looking ahead and never looking back. I have been posting my poems on both this blog and on Poetic Asides where Robert Lee Brewer, an excellent poet, gives a prompt each day of April. You can post your poems in the comments there. Robert Lee Brewer has been nominated for Poet Laureate of the Blogosphere and you can go to Blogging Poet.com to vote for him. Once you read his work and see the extent of what he does I am sure you will see why he qualifies for this honor. The good thing about voting on Blogging Poet.com is that you don't need to join anything and you can comment too. This is rare for any website these days.

Here are my poems for today:

Taunting shadows

I close my eyes

Your love surrounds me

a pillow against the world

Your chest was my resting place

as your arms encircled me and

held me close. The feelings for you

so strong they propelled me

beyond my comfort zone to you.

Tore me from my parents

onto a subway train at midnight

to flee to your open arms.

We chained ourselves to each other

with our love and now as I look back

I realize the hypnotic state

could not have lasted, yet in my mind

though it had disintegrated years before

I kept myself open to you.

Years ago you were a young

wanderer crazy for adventure who took each

situation in a gulp and carried me toward

places I didn’t want to go with your charm

And I clung to you for you were my glue.

Your hazel eyes on mine were all I needed

Bathed in their warmth my day was complete

I see these shadows from my past haunting me

Taunting me with their truths no longer there

I beat my fists against your invisible wall and

mourn the loss of the radiance of your smile

the circle of your arms as I stand here in the cold

wondering where did those times go.

copyright 2010 by Barbara Ehrentreu

Strong

Bombard me with your worst

I ricochet trouble as it happens.

Send your bullets flying at me

I won’t flinch

If trouble wants to find me it will

need to strap on its arsenal

My body is soft but inside I am

granite

You underestimate me think my soft

voice and demeanor can be breached

Pummel me with fist of iron

Walk on my fingers

Slam your heel into my gut

with a mystery ailment weakening

my husband day by day

You can’t stop me

My path is plotted and I will see you

at the top with my published book in hand.

Copyright 2010 by Barbara Ehrentreu

Thank you to my faithful readers. I appreciate your continuing to read my crazy meanderings even though we have had technical difficulties. Those are starting to clear up now I hope. Also welcome to any new people. Please leave a comment. I try to respond, but sometimes I just can't. Also, please do not spam me. I hate those codes, but since I did get one spam comment on my last blog, (which I had to delete) I might have to put in security.

On Wednesday, April 21st I am going to be on Red River Writers Book Club with host Fran Lewis. I will be one of the people asking questions of the author for the month, Stephen Tremp, who has written a novel dealing with the idea of worm holes, Breakthrough to Covert. Please tune in to listen at 12PM Central time. Stephen's novel is a non-stop adventure with a spy hero, chase scenes, and fascinating scientific technology simplified for easy reading.

group Milspeak. There is another anthology that is available now with the writings of these great service people. Eric was the subject of one of my Examiner.com articles. He will be discussing his new book, Seth Baumgartner's Love Manifesto.

Sunday, April 18, 2010

This week was very hectic due to needing to write a poem a day for April. So I didn't post them for the last four days. Also, my husband's health was not good at all. The doctor gave him a new medication after he got out of the hospital two weeks ago and it has been causing him to lose sleep and other things. The worst is how confused he seems and how angry he is about the confusion. He is going to the doctor tomorrow, I hope and we will finally get to the bottom of this mystery illness. They know he has high calcium, but they don't know what is causing it. The doctors keep trying to find the answer and wind up eliminating the diseases tested. But they never tell him what he has. So tomorrow he is going to make an appointment with a pulmonary doctor. You can add coughing to the list of symptoms he has. He has granulomas in his lungs that could be causing the cough. We'll see. I'll let you know when I know. In the meantime please pray for him. :) One of the poems I wrote is about his health problem.

For anyone who hasn't read my other posts all of the poems you see here and the other ones for Days 1-14 are also posted on Poetic Asides for Poem A Day.

April 15, 2010

Write a deadline poem

Deadline Day

We’ve folded and placed in the envelopeall the details of our existencegleaned from magical math thatfinds my piddly earnings somehowtoo large to refund my money

I have done this too many timesrushing to the crowded post officeenvelopes in hand stamped and addressedNeeding to verify they will arrive at their destinationwith certified papers assuring their delivery

Hurry it’s 11:45 PM. Will we make it by midnight?We fly to the car and race, palms sweating onlyto find a line. The clock ticks off the minutes asI bite my nails to the cuticles. At last at 11:59 wereach the overworked postal worker and exactlyat midnight hand over our year’s financial history and watch itdrop into the outbox.

Next year we’ll do it the day before to avoid the crowds we say.Repeating last year’s line word for word. We open the door into thelobby and go against the crowd formed on the outside. I feel like I just landedon the moon and will float away with the happiness that has replacedmy angst.copyright 2010 by Barbara Ehrentreu

April 16, 2010

Write a poem about death of some kind:

Questioning Death (loosely based on Emily Dickinson’s “Because I Could Not Stop for Death”

When my time comes will Death come as a hotguy in a tuxedo holding champagne and rosesOr will it be like the slide at the amusement parka swift ride down a steep slippery slope?

Will he smell of Old Spice, take my handand walk with me like a lover?Whisper tender words as he touches the smallof my back helping me into the gold Mercedesin which we will ride toward the light?

Will I recognize him or will he introduce himselfPlacing his calling card in front of me?Tap dancing down the ruby encrusted pathas family and friends see the light go out of my eyes?

Unlike Emily I do not wish this. I would rather hide ina safe room with the only key than be seduced by thattempter. I will barricade myself before one inch of me.falls into his spell. I already have a love – Life.copyright 2010 by Barbara Ehrentreu

April 17, 2010

Write a poem about any aspect of Science

Science Stumped

It happened graduallyHis energy waned and suddenly in front of mestood a man who acted like 87 not his true age of 67His voice changed, grew hoarse along withhis disposition the crotchety croak of an invalid

Science intervened with blood tests and thedoctors placed him in the hospital for moretests to be prodded and pricked, drained and chainedto a bed with a catheter to measure the liquid.

The diagnosis too much calcium in the blood seemed asimple fix so they IV’d him and sent him home. Their workwas done, the level went down, so home he went withdrugs and vitamin D. Again probed and examined by his doctorThey increased dosage still not finding the root cause

Armed with charts and results the scientists continued to examinewith no results. As science ruled out cause after cause searchingfor the reason for his cough, his lack of energy, his inability to focusWhat changed this dynamo into a mewling sheep needing to have meput on his socks? We wait as science deliberates his fate.copyright 2010 by Barbara Ehrentreu

April 18, 2010

To___________

To be a poet

If you listen to other peopleThe world is a different place for themThey ignore the beauty around themIn the growing grass they miss the bright yellowdandelions and the rows of daffodils along theroadsides. Each event they attend is seen on thesurface and not examined for images or emotionsLike my mind needs to constantly considerLike the way the sound of the music reminds meof a time years ago when I stood in a beer soakedcrowd with the smell of weed permeating the crowdLost in the sea of music and feeling like a piece ofa human ocean.

Or when I see the ocean its expanse brings me backto the time when I spent an idyllic afternoon on the rocksoverlooking a cove on Long Island SoundOr how the sun sparkled like diamonds on the choppy waterOr how the water had hues of aqua and green with a touch ofdeep blue or how the horizon looked like someone drewwith purple charcoal on the sky

The face of a poet may not show the movies we show insidefor ourselves and try to express in words that never seem tosay what we have seenLike a blurred photograph my words always seem to fall shortstriving for the one word to bring it all together

Wednesday, April 14, 2010

This is a very short post just to show you my poem for Day 14. I hope you enjoy it. It's about my life years ago when we owned a house in Rocky Point, Long Island.

Long Island

The smell of wild roses growing along the shorelineannounces the start of summerI tilled the soil each spring for my garden wherebright red cherry tomatoes and plump round beefsteak ones grew.baby carrots fresh from the soil and nasturtiums growing nearby

The girls played on the bricks tightrope walking along the edgessinging and dancing while performing their productionsThe hammock hung between the dogwood trees where I layfacing the sky canopied with the fragrant leaves

Wild strawberries grew in the grass of my backyard and whenI mowed the smell of wild onions surrounded me as the tallgrass tickled my legs. Along the fence the roses bloomed inpaint box colors. White flowers painted withred as if brushed by an invisible artist. On the side of the housepeonies grew in pink profusion. I’d cut them and bring themstraight to the sink. Their blooms held ants between thepetals so I’d run the water hoping not to flatten their beauty.

In front were the azalea bushes, white and pink bouquets and the impatiensplanted along the edge mixing with purple hyacinthsIn spring the tulips grew in ordered rows.Later in the summer the gladiolas wouldtower over all with their trumpet shaped blooms so heavy they would lean over.

I went past the house since we left. The new owners pulled up the garden.Replaced it with ground cover. It’s as if my life were erased and all I haveare half remembered memories when my life was car pools, raking, mowing,and planting a garden. When mother was my job and wife sat on the back burner.Long Island, Suffolk county, Rocky Point you live as the impression on the sandstays after the tide ebbs on your beaches where once we walkedour bare feet leaving no impression on the shifting sand.

copyright 2010 by Barbara Ehrentreu

Until the next time I hope that you were able to load this now. I don't see anymore errors when I load the page, so let me know if you still can't get onto the page. Of course this won't work if you don't see what I just wrote.:)

I have been having terrible problems with this blog. It wouldn't load at all at various times during the week. Now it is probably slow loading. So please I hope you will have patience and that si why you are here. You have to refresh a couple of times to get it to load faster.

That said I am posting the last two poems written from prompts for Poem a Day on Poetic Asides by Robert Brewer. Both prompts were difficult to write about. The first is titled after a city and the other two are a love and anti love poem. Funny enough, the anti love poem was easier to write than the love poem.

I’ve known you on foot and have driven past your wondersWatched tourists gawk at places I’ve seen since childhoodExplored your waterfront and strolled through The CloistersPretending I were a medieval princess wandering my abby

You are always rearranging your placesBuilding buildings so tall they get lost in the cloudsStuck tight in endless rowsBridges connect the boroughs soaring over the HudsonAnd the East RiversLooking like necklaces with their twinkling lights at night

I could bring you to all the homes where I livedThe railroad apartment on St Johns Place in Brooklyn near my parents’ storeOur ground floor Lefrak disaster in Kew Gardens, Queens where the toilet overflowed on my mother’s beige carpet and black and white linoleum tilesThe apartment across the street in the Roger Williams with the concrete backyardWhere Flash ran away and we lived with our babies.

New York you walk with me no matter where I landI close my eyes and your sights and smells assault meYou are my birth mother and nurturer of my soulYour culture runs through my veins always pointing me back to you.copyright 2010 by Barbara Ehrentreu

Day 13

April 13, 2010

Two for Tuesday: A Love Poem and Anti Love Poem

Anti Love

Why do I need you?You are a headache shaped as a man.I cannot be the person you wish me to beAnd yet you continue to push me towardAn unwanted goal

You put your love away in a suitcaseA long time ago and threw away the keyNow all I see in your eyes are indifferenceAnd impatience.

Those hazel eyes I once spent hours knittingA sweater for in emerald green to match the color yourEyes become when you wear greenThose eyes that now bore into me and holdRecriminations instead of loveEyes that accuse me of faux crimes made up by you.

Sunday, April 11, 2010

These are this weekend's poems and they are very different. The first one is really a silly one and of course it's meant to parody horror movies. Horror movies are not my favorite genre, so writing horror is difficult for me. That's why I approached it from a humorous angle.

The second one is a fill in the blank after Last. This poem is really a sad goodbye and a realization of the truth. I hope you like both of them, but I think the first poem is more of a throw away.:)

April 10, 2010

Write a horror poem

Attack of the Zombie Writers

They rise silent from secret lairsUnwritten words cling to decaying bodies,trail in ink stained tendrils across the screenThey gather in hordes ready to pounce fromall sides like a gang of marauders about tobreak into the home of an unlucky victim

in slinky rows their word tendrilsslide like chainsClink, clink, clink, clinkThe sound heard only by insomniac writersheld to their computers by the force of their words

Clink, Clink,Clink,Clink, CLINK, CLINK, CLINKI hear it, chained to my seat as my fingers continuetheir tapping to transfer thoughts into printUnable to stop yet knowing the hour is late and theAttack is near

CLINK, CLINK, CLINK, CLINK, CLINK, CLINKGlued to her seat one innocent writer cannot leave as shefeels the tendrils trailing upon her fingertips and knows theirtouch will erase her own wordsleave her staring blanklyat the empty screen as the zombie writers slither into her brain anddevour its contents leaving only an empty shell.

Closer and closer they surround her,circle her bodyParalyzed by their instant poison she attempts to escapeThe zombies find an opening and slip into her brainddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddis all that is left of her words/

Beware the attack of the zombie writers.Clink, Clink, Clink, Clink, Clink CLINK, CLINK, CLINKThey could be coming for you!!copyright 2010 by Barbara Ehrentreu

April 11, 2010

The Last-----------------

The Last Passionate Kiss

I can’t remember when or whereyou last kissed me with the passionwe knew when we were young andyou gobbled New York in one stepWhen kisses served as glue as Iheld to you as if you were a lifeline

Not knowing at the time abuse and indifference

hid in the creases of thoseseductive lips.

When lust leaves, the picnic endsYou might as well pack up your things andsplit. For without passion why live with a man?copyright 2010 by Barbara Ehrentreu

I hope everyone had a great weekend. Mine was just as Randy says: "Aw'ight". I lied when I said that we had unpacked the last box. My daughter found another box today and unpacked that. Of course it contained books.:) The living room is almost done if you don't count the pictures waiting to be hung standing against the wall. And of course, we still don't have a dining room table.:)

I've tried to address the problem of the slow loading and I've traced it to a widget that I may decide to get rid of if it keeps giving me that problem.:) I hope that all of you are able to load the page properly. If you can't, please let me know. Anyone on Blog Catalog you can send me a message or if you are on Facebook let me know. it's no good if you can't get here to read what I write.

Until the next time keep writing and thank you all for reading my meanderings. Someone told me today that my life resembled a soap opera. I've thought for a long time that we should be a sitcom family on TV. How was your weekend?

Saturday, April 10, 2010

Though I wrote a poem every day I didn't post at all this week. Part of the reason was I was so tired I couldn't see the words. But tonight I decided to post all the poems I wrote including the one for yesterday. I hope you enjoy them and please remember to leave a comment. I love to know how people see my writing.:) If you are interested in joining this challenge you can go to Poetic Asides read the prompts and post your own work. Or you can contribute your own poem here for any of these prompts or you can write your own ignoring the prompts.

April 5, 2010

A too much information poem prompt:

Clamp My Lips

I’m having trouble writing thisbecause I always give too much informationMy mouth spews it outas if it were water.

In life I am bombarded with too much informationI mean who wants to know that this starlet or that golfercheated on their spousesAnd certainly it’s not necessary to drag out all of the peoplewith whom they cheated.

Isn’t it too much information to learn a revered music idolhad an affair? Does the music get worse?We don facades to keep stuff from leaking out.

I give too much informationI should clamp my lipsHide it from the worldDon’t tell all the details

It’s enough to know it was a fireDon’t describe it or the smell ofsmoke that continues to causeripples of fear when I smell it anywhereDon’t tell about the loss of life.Enough to say it was a fireAnything else is too much information.copyright 2010 by Barbara Ehrentreu

The gap narrows as blow after blowpounds the shelf down to the metalThey misplace me most of the timeI’m not the first child of tools

Then the time arrives and there I amin their hands pounding metal and woodBang, bang, bang, bangThe ping sound makes their ears pop

At the end pin meets wood and I have done my job.copyright 2010 by Barbara Ehrentreu

April 9, 2010

Self Portrait

She smiles like a young Mona Lisa with herhair shaped by Roman hairdresserswearing a tiny pink tee shirt standingin the middle of a Roman street lookingstraight ahead the expressiontailored for her lover pointing the camera

before the deluge of age pounded on her shoresAnd babies softened her bellyBefore she became a blonde to cover the grayPeeking too many times between the brown curlyStrands

Years later she flashes her smileopen as a Kansas prairieno one sees the pain underneathmasked by years of pretendingreminds herself she is a wife and motherrecalls the days when she walked down thosecobblestoned streets wanting this.

Now she is fury wrapped in cashmerea whipped cream lionroaring into an abyssvulnerable as a baby’s skinloyal to a fault whowishes these strangers would crawl into herbrain and see the reality of her life.copyright 2010 by Barbara Ehrentreu

Beside the lake, beneath the trees,Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine

And twinkle on the Milky Way,

They stretch'd in never-ending line

Along the margin of a bay:

Ten thousand saw I at a glance,Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they

Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:

A poet could not but be gay,

In such a jocund company:

I gazed -- and gazed -- but little thoughtWhat wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie

In vacant or in pensive mood,

They flash upon that inward eye

Which is the bliss of solitude;

And then my heart with pleasure fills,And dances with the daffodils.

By William Wordsworth (1770-1850).

Here is what you can do with the poem. You can copy it and start collecting a poem a day or you can start writing your own poems each day. Either way, please share the poems you find here. That's what Poetry month is all about.:) If you copy it you can save it for Poem in Your Pocket Day,Thursday, April 29th when you slip a poem into the pocket of a loved one or good friend.

The prompt for today's poem is "History", so I focused on a situation that has been happening fairly regularly lately. How many of you have adult children who question your memories?

Mine does very frequently and I incorporated this experience into today's poem. This is a short post with only one poem, since I'm right on time now.:)

What I love about April as Poetry Month is being surrounded by poetry all month. Sometimes only a poem will do when you're writing and many times I have found I have written more than one about an experience. Poetry takes the images of a memory and translates it into mind pictures so we're taking and putting them into poetic images.:)

Here is my poem for today:

Memories

They creep into conversationlike today when I spoke of the first timeI ever cooked calamaritheir slimy translucent grey bodies layon the counter with the eyes staringantenna now useless protruding from theirheads. They didn’t look like the fried crispyrings I had known.In the middle of the memory she says“No, that wasn’t when we were in Bedford.It was in Long Island”I questioned the memory, all the while knowingshe was wrong, but in the all knowing world ofa young adult woman not yet in her thirtiesit was the truth for her.

Lately our truths seem to collideas if she were searching throughmy memories and deciding which were realand I question each time wondering if she is rightknowing the memory is mineheld in my brain and lived viscerally,How can she vet the memories I had before her?She wasn’t there when I threw my wedding ring acrossthat parking lot in California.or when I lost my tooth in Arizona.She wasn’t there when I got the news my father diedon an April morning.

Last year I started exactly on April 1st posting each day's poem. I also posted on Poetic Asides blog that Robert Brewer writes. However, this year is a little different. On April 1st a poem was the farthest thing from my mind. My husband's doctor called and told him to go to the hospital for tests and a procedure. He stayed in the hospital for three days and didn't get out until today. So I fell behind in writing poems. But tonight I caught up and I'm now up to date. Oh and he is getting better. More about him tomorrow.:)

So this post is exclusively my poems. I hope you enjoy them and please feel free to comment one way or the other.

April 1, 2010

Empty

There’s an empty spacebehind the smile on my mouththat greets each passerbywith a friendly Hi

It’s hidden by the gloss ofaccomplishments during the dayand lays in wait like a snake about to strikeuntil my family leaves and occupies theirbeds

It creeps through the gaping hole left bythe emptiness around mesits like a docile childas I try to placate it with TV programs and emails,Facebook groups and writing

Writing helps, but still it waitsfor nothing can fill itand soon it will crawl back inside for the nighthidden once more from the rest of the worldcopyright 2010 by Barbara Ehrentreu

April 2, 2010

Water

The day begins with its runningflush, brush, rinse.

It swishes through the dishes as it swirlsoff the food.rushes into the empty washer flowingpver the clothes as it agitates and mixes withsoap, then rinses clean pulling the dirt down the drain.

Its clean non-taste glides down my throatfills pots for soup and pasta.mixes with all food like the Miss Congeniality of liquids

slips over fountains and babbles over rocksthunders over mountains to be Niagara Fallsfloats quiet and silent in lakes and pondswhere animals swim on and in it

Surrounds us in massive oceans thatrise in waves and carry currentsand it evaporates, becomes clouds thenproduces rain that pounds my windows makingpuddles. It is us and we are it. We are made of it, produce it, andit is the center of our lives.copyright 2010 by Barbara Ehrentreu

April 3, 2010

Partly Gone

In the aftermath of the firethe beige shingled home wherewe lived for ten yearsceased to exist

one side charredits windowsbroken by the power of the fireblackened from roof to porch

in minutes we were pushed to the streetforced into a change notforseen on the bitter cold Decemberevening when we were wrenchedfrom comfort and fled to the street in our pajamasto watch in horror as flames became the new tenants.

In twenty-five minuteshungry flames devoured the steps leadingto their bedroom upstairsstranding two while firemen triedrescuing, but had to watch asflames licked and destroyed the flesh of myneighbors trapped in the fire’s furor.

Our half of the house escaped the fire’schar, sat intact.kitchen, living room untouchedbut we would never live there again.copyright 2010 by Barbara Ehrentreu

Until the next time, thank you to all my usual readers and I hope that anyone who stumbled on these meanderings comes back. All of April I am going to post my poems here each day. Please come back tomorrow for the 4th poem of the month.